


as the new days rise

by timetoboldlygo



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gen, bodhicassian sometimes, finn appears 2 times at least, lots of aus!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-05 12:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16810900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetoboldlygo/pseuds/timetoboldlygo
Summary: a collection of prompts from bodhi rook week 2018! prompts are: family, anxiety, relationships, stay afraid but do it anyway (courage, alternate universes, recovery, and favorite tropes





	1. day 1: family

**Author's Note:**

> day 1 was a family prompt! so have some bodhi adopting finn and teaching him a family recipe
> 
> the title of this fic is from "stay alive" by josé gonzález

Bodhi has always been prone to worrying but he felt like he was worrying about Finn a little too much. He couldn’t make himself stop, though. Was Finn eating enough? Did he like the house? Was he sleeping through the night without nightmares? Did he feel comfortable talking to Bodhi about anything? Did he like Bodhi’s cooking? Because Bodhi wasn’t sure he’d say so, if he did.

“Is that the same bread from last week?” Finn asked. He was standing at the counter, his posture still military-straight. Bodhi remembered instructors trying to get him to have ramrod shoulders like that during flight training too. He’d never been good at it. “I liked that.”

“It is!” Bodhi said. In the past couple of months, Finn had shot up, but he still had a round baby face and eyes too serious for a boy. He was only ten. “It’s my mother’s recipe,” Bodhi said softly. “She taught me how to make the bread when I was little, me and my little sister.”

Finn tilted his head, clearly thinking about something. Bodhi didn’t know what, because Bodhi didn’t know what the First Order had taught him about Jedha. Probably that their predecessors had reigned victorious over the monks there. “Can you find all the ingredients here?”

Bodhi shook his head. “I can usually find similar things though,” he said. He held out a bowl for Finn to sniff at. “These nuts go in the bread. They’re aren’t exactly what my mother used, but I added some sugar and berries to make them sweeter, like the nuts on Jedha. It still tastes good, huh?”

Finn took the bowl with careful hands and took a whiff. He took too deep a whiff, actually, and made an affronted face. “Can I help?”

Bodhi blinked at him, surprised. He shouldn’t have been, though. “I’d love some help,” he said. “Do you want an apron?”

Finn nodded, so Bodhi got him an apron. It was a little too big. Bodhi also got him a chair so that he could knead the bread next to him, so they were almost the same height. Finn approached kneading the bread with the same determination and care that he approached everything. Pretty soon, he was covered in flour, which was pretty adorable. Bodhi’s mother would undoubtedly have loved him, the way Bodhi loved him.

“That’s good!” Bodhi said, checking the consistency. “Okay, now we’re going to fold these nuts in, okay, like this.” He demonstrated. Finn watched and then did the same. “You’re a natural at this,” Bodhi said, and Finn beamed. Bodhi had been told by Leia, when he’d taken Finn in, that Finn was the brightest of his cadet class.

It kept Bodhi awake at night, sometimes, wondering what sort of horrors Finn would have faced being the brightest in his class.

That didn’t matter now, though, because Finn was here, with Bodhi. They had each other. 

“Uncle Bodhi,” Finn said. The spiced nuts were almost fully folded into his bit of dough. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you’d like.”

“Anything?”

Bodhi looked down at him. Finn had an unusually serious look on his face. “Anything,” he said, because he wanted Finn to really believe that. Finn didn’t ask a lot of questions. Bodhi wanted him too, but he knew what the Empire was like. It was why Leia had asked him to take Bodhi in. So Bodhi didn’t push, yet. He let Finn come to him.

Finn looked back down at the dough and pressed a nut down with his thumb. “Does it hurt to think about your family?”

Bodhi’s hands stopped working at the dough. “Oh,” he said. He forced his hands to keep working. His hands knew what to do, they’d been doing this for years. “Yes, very much. Sometimes it’s overwhelming.”

“Oh.”

“But sometimes it’s not,” Bodhi added quickly. “Like this, right now? My mother taught me this. And it hurts that she’s not around, but – she lives on in this recipe. It can be both, Finn. I can be sad they’re gone and I can miss them, and I do miss them, more than anything. But that doesn’t mean that I can only be sad forever. I want to remember that I can also be so so happy that I had them.”

It had taken him a long long long time to get this point. And he won’t lie to Finn, there were some days where he could barely get out of bed because he missed his family so much. Because he missed his sister’s laugh and his little niece’s smile. Because he missed the smell of Jedha and the clang of its marketplace and the cold desert, so seemingly empty and so so full.

But it’s been many years. Bodhi wanted to remember the good things more than ever.

Finn nodded, then said, “Can I miss people I don’t know?”

Bodhi paused. “Like your parents?” Finn gave a jerky nod, still looking down at the bread. He wasn’t crying, probably because he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. “I think so, Finn.”

“I just don’t know what happened to them.”

“I know,” Bodhi said. He gave Finn’s hand a clumsy pat. “And I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have recipes.”

“Well, we can fix that!” Bodhi said, tearing off a hunk of the bread and forming it into a little ball. “You have this one now, and I can teach you more.” His mother would be thrilled. “This counts, Finn. It might not be exactly the same, but I want you to have these recipes. My mother would want you to have them too, because we’re family now.”

Finn looked at him. “Really? Even though I made you sad?”

“Oh, Finn, you didn’t make me sad,” Bodhi said, and he reached out and pulled Finn into a hug. They were both getting flour all over the kitchen. “My family made me happy. And I carry them in my heart, both the love and the pain of missing them. But loss is just a part of life, yeah? There’s so much more.”

He felt Finn nod against his chest and gave him one last squeeze before releasing him.

“Thanks,” Finn said. “For everything.”

“Any time,” Bodhi said, and he meant it. 

“You have flour on your face, Uncle Bodhi.”

Bodhi grinned. “My sister always threw flour at me,” he said, elbowing Finn. “That’s just family.”


	2. day 2: anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bodhi rook week day 2: anxiety! i just uh . i just did things idk

The first time Bodhi put his hands back on a ship, it was just to do repairs. That didn’t matter, because they were shaking. They shake as he smooths a hand over the nose, they shake as he tries to pull apart the steering column to fix a wiring issue, and most dangerously, they shake as he tries to fix the wiring issue. He struggles with it for the better part of an hour and manages to burn a small bit of skin right above his wrist, where his gloves don’t quite reach, before he gives up.

This never used to be a problem.

His hands don’t shake if he takes a shift in the mess hall serving food and they don’t shake when he’s in the garden with Baze and Chirrut trying to meditate. He’s fine if he’s playing a game of sabacc with Cassian and Jyn, which is good because he has a reputation to uphold.

They shake when he’s trying to go to sleep. They shake if he thinks people have been looking at him too long, even if he knows they haven’t, even he knows they’re only looking at him because they want the next serving of their meal.

Chirrut has a habit of folding his hands over Bodhi’s when they start to shake, which Bodhi likes. Jyn will usually make faces at him and stick out her tongue, which is so surprising on Jyn’s face that it makes Bodhi laugh and forgot and then his hands stop shaking. Cassian would tell bad jokes, and throw his arm around Bodhi’s shoulder. K2 isn’t good at comfort much, but Bodhi appreciates that.

He tries to reason with his hands, sometimes: “It’s just a ship,” he’ll whisper. “You’ve been flying ships for forever.” His hands will be above him, working on wiring, and enough mechanics and pilots talk to their ship that no one gives him a second glance. This is an old clunker that no one will be flying anyways, it was just for him to work on while he was recovering. His left leg is still aching whenever he walks, and he thinks it will probably twinge forever, even though the doctors say he should have a total recovery. But his hands haven’t recovered so why should his legs.

So he whispers to his hands, “It’s just a ship” and “We need to do our part” and “please” but they really have a mind of their own. “Please,” he says, one last time. His leg is aching more than usual, because he had to go to physical therapy, but he’s full, because he was just at the mess hall with Cassian and Baze. “Please, you love to fly.”

He’s probably not the only mechanic or pilot who’s cried while under a ship trying to fix her, but that fact doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. No one mentions it, but at least a few people around him have to have heard. Even if he is quiet, and he’s not sure he is, the warehouse echoes a little bit.

Even more embarrassing is the fact that the next two times he tries to fix this ship, he cries _again_. He misses flying but no one wants to a pilot with unsteady hands and Bodhi used to have the steadiest hands around; even when he was scared or upset or crying, he never faltered. He misses flying and he misses having something to do and a routine and he misses his sister.

He misses Jedha.

The fourth time he’s crying under this rusty cargo ship, because he’s apparently incapable of doing te proper thing and crying in his room, Luke Skywalker ( _the_ Luke Skywalker!) slides in next to him.

“Hey,” Luke says, casual as can be. He probably has a million things to do, or maybe he doesn’t, who knows what the hotshot pilot of the Rebellion does on his off time, but he’s here, under a rust bucket in the farthest back corner.

“Hi,” Bodhi says, then he hiccups.

Luke pointedly doesn’t look at him. “It’s bad, huh,” he says. He folds his arms behind his head, even though there isn’t a ton of room. As is, they’re lying side by side. “I miss Tatooine.”

Bodhi takes in a big gulping breath and let the wrench rest on his chest, giving his hands a break. “You’re from Tatooine?” He didn’t know that. It was odd to find a similarity here, two boys from desert planets. They must both find the rain so strange and unpredictable.

Luke sighs. “Yeah, and I couldn’t wait to get off it,” he says, longing clear in his voice. “Now I miss everything. The sand. I miss the kriffin’ sand.”

This Bodhi understood. “My mom used to scold me from tracking it in,” he says. It always managed to coat him and stick to him, although most of the whole front room had sand on the ground. “I miss that.”

Luke nods. “I’m sorry about Jedha.”

“I’m sorry about Tattooine, too,” Bodhi says, because even if Tattooine is still a planet, going back is impossible. Luke’s had it cut out from his heart the way Jedha has been carved out of Bodhi’s flesh, leaving only the gaping memory of what used to be. Neither of them can go home.

Luke reaches over and put a hand over Bodhi’s. “Don’t let it take more from you,” he says, and it’s so soft. No one has been soft like this, everyone has told him to keep going because of anger, revenge, spite, but Luke seems to want it for Bodhi’s sake and Bodhi’s along. “They can’t have more.” He gives Bodhi’s hand a clumsy pat then made to slither out from under the

“And,” he adds, ducking down on all fours to peer under the belly of the ship. He looks ridiculous, and Bodhi smiled. “I want you on my squadron, Bodhi.”

“Oh!” Bodhi says, “No, I couldn’t!”

“You named it,” Luke says, grinning. He looks like a boy. “You should be part of it!”

“I – no.”

“We’re waiting,” Luke says, then he stands up and his boots disappear.

Bodhi reaches back up to the wiring of the ship. He breathes in deep – he used to be so much better at putting aside everything. He used to be able to fly no matter what fears. He wants that again. So he breathes deep and thinks about Luke’s faith and Cassian and Jyn and Baze and Chirrut, the entirety of the friends he’s made at the rebellion.

His hands are steadier this time. They still aren’t perfectly still but they get the job done.


	3. day 4: courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bodhi rook week day 3 which was relationships! bodhi and cassian raise their son finn

Finn is the sweetest child ever, and Bodhi isn’t biased at all, absolutely not. Finn is absolutely perfect and can do no wrong. This is of course how Bodhi ends up reading three different fairytales to Finn at bedtime, until Cassian pads in and stares at them both. “Bo,” he says gently. “It’s way past _somebody’s_ bedtime.”

“One more story,” Finn protests, giving Cassian a million-watt smile. Cassian tries to be stern but he ends up smiling too when faced with the full power. “Come on, Papa!”

Cassian looks at Bodhi, who shrugs. He won’t pretend this isn’t how it goes every single night Finn wants a story, because they both know it is. Bodhi ends up on the bed for hours, reading fairytales and when he runs out of those, he tells Finn silly stories about how Papa and Baba met.

Just the rest of this one,” Bodhi says, and he pats the bed. Finn bounces his feet up and down to make the little orange cat, Toaster, try to attack his feet.

Cassian laughs and settles on the other side of Finn. He presses a kiss to the top of Finn’s head. Finn snuggles down farther between them in the covers. Toaster immediately stops playing with Finn’s feet and settles on Cassian’s lap – she likes him the best, even though Bodhi named her and Finn is the one who plays with her the most.

“Okay,” Bodhi says. Cassian’s hand is warm against the back of his neck. “Where was I-”

“The castle.”

“Right, of course, the castle,” Bodhi says. “How could I forget! So, in the distance, they see a castle-”

Finn falls asleep right after they arrive at the castle. For all his talk, he’s just six and his bedtime is very early. Cassian and Bodhi sit with him a while, comfortable and content.

“You’re gonna spoil our son rotten,” Cassian says, petting the cat, but he’s smiling ear to ear.

“You like it,” Bodhi says, grinning back. Raising Finn is the best part of their lives and they both know it, and they have a good son. Despite Cassian’s worries about not knowing the first thing about parenting, despite Bodhi worrying he’d be so nervous about a child that he wouldn’t let them be free to do anything, they have a very good son.

-

Finn and Cassian are in the kitchen, and Cassian has a washcloth pressed to their son’s face. They both turn to look at Bodhi when he comes in, carrying groceries, and so Bodhi notices the black eye immediately.

“Again?” Bodhi says, putting the bags down on the counter. Cassian looks a little guilty; Finn does not. He raises his head up proud.

Bodhi takes Finn's chin in his hand and carefully tilts his face. The black eye looks bad, this time. "Is his nose broken?"

Cassian shakes his head. "Just a black eye," he says. “Remembered to keep his fists off.”

“Hey,” Bodhi says, because they aren’t supposed to be giving their son fighting tips. Cassian shoots him a grin and Bodhi tries really hard not to smile back, because he’s still worried about Finn.

His nose is a little bloody, but Cassian's right, it's not broken. Again. The knuckles on Finn's right hand are scraped and bloody too. "Finn," Bodhi says. Finn rolls his eyes, already knowing a lecture is coming. He probably already got one from Cassian, too. "You can't keep getting into fights."

"Dad," Finn whines. "They were picking on Ienzo!"

Finn is a good kid, which is why he only gets in fights when people are being bullies. It makes parenting very difficult, because Bodhi doesn’t want to tell him that’s bad.

Bodhi pinches the bridge of his nose. Cassian presses the washcloth back to Finn's face, cleaning off the drying blood under his nose. “Finn,” Bodhi says gently. “You have to stop fighting. You’re getting in trouble and you’re getting hurt.”

Finn frowns and clenches his jaw; it’s a look at Bodhi _knows_ means his son is about to be stubborn. Bodhi says he gets in from his papa. Cassian says he gets it from Bodhi. Realistically they never had a chance of having a not-stubborn son.

“You deflected from the Empire,” Finn says, “You almost died like a billion times.”

Another part of the hard parenting this is that Cassian and Bodhi had done far more reckless, dangerous, and stupid shit that Finn has, and Finn knows it. It’s really hard to not feel _exactly_ like a hypocrite when Finn’s arguing against him. Boy should be a lawyer.

“Hey,” Bodhi objects weakly. He didn’t almost die a _billion_ times. “That wasn’t a reckless decision!”

Finn tilts his head. “Okay, but the others ones totally were,” he grins.

Cassian lets out a laugh, the washcloth falling from Finn’s face. It’s clean of blood now. “He has a point, love.”

Bodhi loves them both so much. He can’t stay mad at Finn, and Finn knows it, too, or he wouldn’t be grinning so much.

“Okay,” Bodhi says, relenting. He isn’t fooling anyone, his husband and his son know him too well. They all know he’s really only upset because he doesn’t like to see Finn hurt. They all know that Finn doesn’t pick fights or start them for the hell of it, and Bodhi _is_ proud of Finn for standing up for his friends. “It’s very good of you to stand up for your friends. Please try to use your words so that I don’t have to see you hurt again.”

“Okay,” Finn says.

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Really!”

“Bodhi,” Cassian interjects, smiling. Bodhi smiles back this time, letting himself be happy with his family.

“I just don’t want a repeat of his broken nose!”

“It’s just a black eye, Dad,” Finn says, sliding off the stool and throwing his arms around Bodhi. Over his head, Cassian gives them both a soft smile.

“I love you,” Bodhi says, pressing a kiss to the top of Finn’s head. He’s getting tall, Bodhi hates it and loves it.

“I love you too!”


	4. day 4: relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bodhi week day 4 which is courage so this is bodhi having courage for a first kiss but also to continue on after jedha

Bodhi teaches Jyn and Cassian how to play A’ya’d, which a Jedhan card game that lots of little children know. Chirrut knows how to play already and Baze doesn’t have an interest in learning, but he sits with Chirrut anyways, the both of them twined together.

“Okay,” Bodhi says. He’s been out of the medical center for a few weeks now, but he only really knows the nurses well still, since he’d been in the medical center so long, which means the deck of cards is one he had to borrow from the nice nurse who has the graveyard shift. Apparently, Cassian didn’t have a set. _Because you’re a recluse_? Bodhi asks, only half-kidding, when Cassian says this.

 _Only partially_ , Cassian jokes. He has a nice smile.

The card deck is well-worn; the one in Bodhi’s cargo ship had been too. He’d played a lot of solitary card games, when he could, but this is better. His ship had always been empty, full of nothing but ghosts. The whole of the rebel base is, too, Bodhi can feel them in the medical center and in the hallways. His room that he shares with Jyn is empty of them, but that’s because he isn’t ready to think about his yet and he suspects that Jyn never will.

The room, though, isn’t full of ghosts today. They’re in Cassian’s room and Bodhi is on the ground even though he’s not supposed to be on the ground, because it’s bad for his newly healed back. Cassian’s single is small, which means they’re all over each. Chirrut is squished in next to Baze, and Jyn’s knee is poking Bodhi’s side, and Bodhi’s legs are partially folded over Cassian’s. He likes being this close. They haven’t had a lot of time together, recently – partially Bodhi’s fault, on account of being in the medical center – and Bodhi has barely seen Cassian at all. He doesn’t know if Cassian is pulling away on purpose or not, but Bodhi can’t let it happen.

That’s why he proposed a game night.

Jyn is good at the gambling ones, but Bodhi is better at most of them. “What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re not very good at cheating,” Chirrut says promptly.

Jyn makes an affronted face. “I’m great at cheating.”

“No, you’re bad at it,” Bodhi says. “I’m great at it.”

She blinks at him, her mouth agape. “ _You’re_ cheating?”

Bodhi flicks a nut at her. “Of course.”

She eventually filters out, yawning as she leaves, and then Baze and Chirrut, the latter supporting the former who is already half-asleep. Bodhi

“Teach me another,” Cassian says, tapping Bodhi’s hands with a card. Bodhi blinks at him.

“You want to become a gambling man?” He jokes, dealing the cards. He puts them out in a familiar sabacc pattern.

“I know this,” Cassian says. “This isn’t new.”

“Are you good at it?”

“As good as anyone can be.”

“Then you’re not,” Bodhi says, grinning. Sabacc is his go-to game, which he knows is odd because it’s hard to cheat at it. The nature of the game is just so unpredictable and spontaneous. But Bodhi doesn’t cheat at it. He just is good at him. His mother used to joke he was a favored child of the gods, which Bodhi loved to hear.

It doesn’t always feel real these days, but Cassian’s bowed head, studying his cards, the slope of his nose and his set mouth do make him feel a little blessed.

“Cassian,” he makes himself say. He hadn’t meant to say this here, now, but he’d meant to say it eventually, because he can’t lose Cassian. Cassian might not be used to having family, but Bodhi is and he can’t handle losing anyone else.

“Hm?”

“I – thank you for coming.”

“You’re in my room.”

Bodhi aims a half-hearted kick at him and Cassian laughs. “You _know_ what I mean!”

“I do,” Cassian confirms, laughter subsiding. He picks up a card. “I – it must be hard, keeping us all together.”

Bodhi frowns. “What?”

“We all keep wanting to go in different directions,” Cassian says.

“I don’t have a lot,” Bodhi hears himself say. His fingers are twisting themselves in his shirt of their own accord. It’s true. He’s getting better, but for the first few weeks, he couldn’t stand to be without at least one of them by his side, or a ringing in his ears would start, just like Jedha. “I – you’re my only family.”

Cassian looks up at that. “You’re my own family too,” he says, putting the cards down. “I’m not very good at it yet.”

“It’s fine,” Bodhi says, patting his hand. “It’s easy. You just say you’re sorry even if you’re not and you show up to birthdays.”

Cassian laughs at that, throwing back his head. “It’s that easy?”

“Yes,” Bodhi says, watching him. The hard part is making a new family. The hard part is allowing yourself to make a new family, which he’d tried so hard to resist, at first, because as gentle as Chirrut’s hand on his face was, it could – Bodhi didn’t want it to – replace the memory of his father’s hand.

But Bodhi wants this. He wants a new family, and he wants to be happy, and he wants Cassian.

So Bodhi says, “Can I kiss you?”

Cassian’s eyebrows shoot up. “ _Me_?”

“Do you see anyone else around?”

Cassian gives him a soft smile then; it makes the fear around Bodhi’s heart ease. “I’d like that,” he says, so Bodhi leans over, scattering the deck of cards all across the floor. One of Cassian’s hands comes up to brush away Bodhi’s hair, and Bodhi kisses him.

He will be happy.


	5. day 5: alternate universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bodhiweek day 5 ? Bodhi from the modern world goes world hopping! just like. if a modern day bodhi traveled through different universes. idk i was reading tsubasa reservoir chronicles, sue me . i dont even like this that much but watever

This is, by Bodhi’s count, the fifth world he’s been to in this cycle, and the 103th day. Almost a third of a year since he’s been home, since he’s seen his friends. He tries to keep track of the days, in a little notebook he carries around, but it’s meaningless and he knows it: a day in this world isn’t the same as the day in the last world, and possibly none of these worlds align with the time of the world he’s from.

It’s dangerous and exciting to be a traveler between worlds, but lately Bodhi’s just been lonely.

That doesn’t mean this world isn’t interesting, though. The sky is pink, which makes Bodhi feel warm all the time. He takes a picture with his camera and then tucks it carefully back in his coat – he doesn’t know if it matters, since people seem to have flying cars.

In the last world he was in, they hadn’t discovered electricity, and he’d been looked at _very_ suspiciously for his clothing (a bomber jacket) and his camera (not even fancy, but to people who didn’t have fluorescent lighting…). It had been snowing and Bodhi was wet, and cold, and had no money to buy a room at the inn or any stew.

But Bodhi’s always been good at making friends. He tells good stories by the fire and he asks if anyone’s seen a girl who looks like him, a little shorter, with lighter brown eyes. He draws a picture for people to look at: _please, she’s my sister_.

No one had seen her there. In the last country, it had been snowing, soft and wet. It used to snow in the desert in the deep of winter, though it could never be called warm, even in summer. Someone lends Bodhi a cloak and he gambles his way through the rest.

He stayed there 15 days, doing whatever needs doing: sewing, hunting, taking care of horses. Like with every new world, he learns something new.

This world, he’s immediately stopped by the flying cars and the tall buildings. One man zips by on a motorcycle, hovering in the air, and Bodhi is so envious he stands on the corner for longer than he should, taking it all in. Everything is so sleek and shiny and white, he can barely stand to look at it. Maybe that’s why everyone is wearing sunglasses.

“Are you one of those retros?” Someone asks.

Bodhi frowns. “What?”

The woman asking has neon green eyes and blue hair and a huge grin. “Oh, you totally must be! A real-life retro! You don’t even have a biometric chip, do you?”

Bodhi blinks at her. “I don’t even know what that is,” he says truthfully, because it doesn’t seem like she was going to care or sound an alarm or anything like that.

She gapes at him. “Wow,” she says, and something in her left eye glows. “You’re totally unchipped!”

“I think so,” Bodhi says. “I’m, uh, new in town?”

“Oh, you have got to let me pick your brain,” she says, “Can I treat you to a coffee?” and that’s how Bodhi makes a friend in this world.

It usually goes like this, honestly. By the end of their coffee (three cups), the woman, Mari, has essentially explained the entirety of this futuristic world to him. He’s told her the basics – he’s from a rural area (not really, but he thinks anything would be rural compared to this), he’s looking for his sister, and he has memory problems (he does, but it won’t affected anything here, he just says it so people won’t find him strange when he doesn’t know basic concepts). Bodhi’s showed her his camera and his watch, and she’s told him he can stay with her for a few weeks, so long as she can continue to pick his brain.

It’s an easy trade, Bodhi agrees and then spends thirty more minutes grilling her about the basics of these chips. She seems to think that there are rural communities who refuse to use any basic brain or data chips, and since Bodhi’s pretty sure he’s chipless, it’s fine if she wants to believe that’s where he’s from.

Mari is nice, but that’s part of the problem. Bodhi spends seven days with her, doing odd jobs and such. She convinces him to come along to her engineering lab, which is thrilling, but mostly he’s just sad that he knows he has to leave. This is the price he paid to follow his sister.

When the witch of time and space had asked him what he’d give, he’d said “Just about anything.” His sister was his entire life.

She’d shrugged.

“Fair enough,” she replies. She passes him a watch with long cool fingers. “This will take you to dimensions. It will follow your sister.”

“Will I be able to catch up with her?”

“Yes, but I can’t say how long it will take.”

Bodhi slips the watch onto his wrist. It doesn’t tell the time, just shows a ticking hand that goes much faster than a minute. “What is the price?”

“Your connections,” the witch replies. “You’re someone who cherishes every person you met. You will not be able to take anyone with you, or tell anyone where you’ve come from. You will make friends but be unable to truly connect, because you will be leaving their world forever in a matter of days.”

“What about the friends I have here?” Bodhi asks, too aware of Cassian standing at his back.

“That is not the price,” the witch says. Cassian reaches out and just for a second, his hand lands on Bodhi’s back, just between his shoulder blades. It calms him.

“Then I’ll pay it,” Bodhi says.

“Best be off, then,” the witch says, and vanishes. Bodhi barely has time to turn around and look Cassian in the face before the watch face glows and Bodhi’s flying, disappearing, gone.

It hurts, all of it – making friends that mean nothing, though they mean everything to Bodhi, missing Cassian – the watch has taken him back home, a few times, though it’s been 103 days by his count since. He misses them. He misses his sister.

He eventually has to leave Mari, too. He doesn’t have a chance to say goodbye, like he hasn’t had a chance to say goodbye to anyone. He’s holding a wrench and the watches glows and he says “Oh, Mari -!” and then he’s gone, the wrench he’s holding coming with him. _This_ is why he has a habit of wearing his backpack with him everywhere. He’s left too many things behind.

He knows this kitchen. He knows that man, looking at the swirl of magic. “Cassian!”

He drops the wrench and throws himself at Cassian, who staggers back. It smells like he’s making coffee and bacon. “What was with the wrench,” Cassian says, laughing. “You wanted to take me out?”

“Never,” Bodhi says. He refuses to let go. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Bodhi,” Cassian says. “Welcome back."


	6. day 6: recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lmao im so behind anyways bodhiweek day 6 recovery

Jedha is empty space.

Intellectually, Bodhi knows this, but that doesn’t stop his heart from crying out when he actually sees it. He knows this sector of space like the back of his hand. There should be a moon, right there, but instead it’s just debris that he knows is dangerous to fly through.

He does it anyways. He wishes he could reach out and touch a rock, a piece of his home, but he’s in this ship and that’s his moon and his family and his soul out there, floating in the void.

Space used to be comforting, in a way. Some people thought space was empty, but most pilots that Bodhi knew thought of space as freedom, as adventure. Instead of seeing it as a void, they saw it as possibility.

Bodhi used to see it like that too.

He presses his palm against the view shield of the ship, flat, like maybe that will take him just a little bit closer to Jedha.

He’d asked for leave from the rebellion, and he thinks his friends know he doesn’t have a plan to come back. Not a single one of them said anything. He feels guilty not bringing Chirrut or Baze with him, when they have just as much and more claim to the ashes of Jedha than he does, but he needs to be alone for this.

He doesn’t have a plan to _not_ come back, he just doesn’t have one, currently, for returning. Right now he just wants to sit here and look at his moon for forever.

He’s not supposed to do this, but he puts the ship on auto, so that it starts to drift, and he leans back in the chair, looking at the port above him. Little bits of brown everything. Bodhi had always imagined the soul of Jedha to be brighter than this. He’d imagined it red, like the little flowers that bloomed all over the desert in spring, even though it was a desert. He imagined it glowing like kyber, he imagined it white and strong and singing like the force.

It’s just brown.

He doesn’t want to go back. “Sorry, everyone,” he says to the debris floating over his head. “I can’t.”

He doesn’t know how long he spends floating there – in a way, there’s no time in space. Looking up at the stars and the debris of this moon, he feels like nothing.

He’s a coward. He’s defected from the Empire and he’ll abandon the rebellion and he’ll – he’ll – he’ll what? He can’t stay here floating in ashes forever. Much as he wants to, surrounded by the bittersweet feeling of a lost home, he thinks his mother would back to life and kill him herself for doing that.

His ship beeps with an incoming message, light the controls up green. He reaches out and flips the switch to hear it. He wonders how long ago it was sent, but there’s no way to tell. There’s a long staticky noise and then nothing.

Bodhi sits up and peers at his control screen, but it’s impossible to tell with all the debris if there’s another ship out there. He checks the message against but its still just static. It could be nothing, it could be an accident, it could be a delayed message from the rebellion. “Is this a sign,” he says out loud to his empty ship. It predictably does not respond.

“Is that a sign?” He says again. Maybe this time Jedha hears him. He presses both hands to the front shield, then his forehead. He wants to be out there. He wants to be on Jedha. “Tell me, please.”

The debris also doesn’t answer.

“This is trickery,” he says. Does Jedha not want him to stay? “This is _mean_.”

He wishes he could feel the Force, if it was still here, in space. Maybe it is, he doesn’t know. But he can’t stay, he knows that now. Jedha knows that, most certainly. It welcomes him home, but nothing more. There’s no song that he can hear with his entire body, there’s no light.

He both hates and loves that Jedha can do this for him after it’s gone. He always used to think of home as a place to calm down, quiet his mind, and get some perspective. There’s nothing left and somehow that’s providing him the same peace.

He removes his hands from the glass and puts them back on the controls. “Thanks,” he says. A piece of small debris hits the shield, like Jedha is saying goodbye. “I’ll be back.”


	7. day 7: favorite tropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last day! im not doing the free day. bodhi week day 7, fav tropes - obvs i got some bed sharing going on!

Sometimes, they end up in Cassian’s bed. Cassian is higher up in the chain of command, which means he has his own room. It's not much bigger than anyone else's, but it's private. Sometimes Bodhi will fall asleep without meaning too, whenever they’re up late and just talking – Cassian keeps odder hours as a spy than Bodhi does. Instead of waking Bodhi up, Cassian will just pull off his shoes and tuck him in.

Sometimes Cassian will do more work, sitting at his desk and staring at holopads. Sometimes he’ll sit at the end of the bed, so that the blanket around Bodhi’s feet is tight and warm. Sometimes Cassian will just get into bed.

Bodhi doesn’t fall asleep there on purpose, he just genuinely likes talking to Cassian and they both keep odd hours. He does sometimes wake up, in the early morning, when Cassian is still asleep, and he’ll consider going back to his own room because it’s so late, it’s early, but he doesn’t.

Sometimes, very rarely, they end up in Bodhi’s bed, which is just a little bit smaller and means they’re just a little bit closer. It usually only happens when Jyn is on a mission and her bed is empty, and Bodhi is working on some little bit of mechanics that he’s laid out in his room. Usually, in this case, Cassian will be the one to fall asleep first, because Bodhi is usually wired on caf to try and get whatever he’s working on done.

When Cassian falls asleep, Bodhi will do the same for him. They’ve both done this enough times by now that it would be weird, actually, if Bodhi woke him up to go to their room. Neither of them could begrudge the other comfort, not when they’re both so alone.

It’s very nice.

Sometimes, one of them will wake up crying, but the other won’t mention it. Cassian will usually wake Bodhi up if he’s having nightmares. The first time he had, Cassian had shaken him awake, saying his name. “It’s okay,” he says when Bodhi wakes up. Bodhi isn’t fully crying but he can feel tears on his eyelashes. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Bodhi says. He doesn’t move to wipe the tears away, and Cassian does it instead with a gentle finger.

“Does this happen a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m here,” Cassian says. He drapes his arm around Bodhi. “Close your eyes.”

Bodhi had. His nightmares have gotten better, so now Cassian doesn’t have to do this for him nearly as often, but it’s always a nice comfort to have him there when Bodhi jerks awake, barely able to remember the dream that had him horrified. Cassian will just drape his arm over Bodhi, not even needing to say anything. Bodhi will usually say _thanks_ but often Cassian will be asleep again once he sees that Bodhi is okay.

Sometimes, when they’re awake, Bodhi will reach out and put his hand on Cassian’s hands. Cassian always looks startled for a brief second but his expression melts into somethings softer. Bodhi likes that.

Jyn tells him all the time that he’s being a dumbass because “everyone knows you’re together but you!”

“Well, we’re the ones who need to know, don’t you think?” Bodhi will say calmly. He doesn’t feel a need to rush this, he thinks Jyn is upset mostly because she has no patience for anything.

Jyn will groan and throw herself on her bed and the next time it’s empty, Cassian will be here in this room, falling asleep in Bodhi’s bed.

Bodhi isn’t stupid. He knows where this is leading, but he’s content to take him time. He thinks they both need it, even if he does fall more stupidly in love with Cassian every day. But slow is fine. For now, just being tangled together in bed, keeping each other safe, is more than enough.


End file.
